Have Your Babies
by cheesebucket
Summary: Short drabble from the P/R comm on LJ. Rachel has a proposition for Puck. He isn't having it.


**A/N: I don't own Glee. If I did, I'd have enough money to buy all the glee merch I ever wanted.**

**From a prompt at the P/R drabble meme:**

**Natasha Bedingfield- I Wanna Have Your Babies**

* * *

High school was hard for Rachel. At least, that's how Puck phrases it. Rachel prefers to say that high school was a learning experience that prepared her for the real world. And believe her, it does. She spent year after college graduation, auditioning for tiny shows and getting shot down because of this or that or a million tiny things that other people see as flaws but she sees as strengths. Puck always agreed with her. They've been best friends ever since senior year, when Rachel worked harder than he'd ever seen her work to help him raise his grades and get into the City University of New York.

Now, ten years later, they're both single and sharing an apartment. Rachel finally landed her dream role as Laurey in _Oklahoma_ about three years ago, and her very successful run is about to come to an end. Puck, being the knowing and (sometimes) caring best friend that he is, knows that she's going to be really sad once the show is over, so he plans a special evening for them. He goes to the closing night of her show, tags along with her to the cast party, and lets her fall asleep, cuddled against his side, after she spent two hours crying, saying she's "never going to find another role as perfect and fulfilling as Laurey."

The next night, he takes her out to dinner at her favorite restaurant. He plans for them to then go see Funny Girl at a small theatre on the west side, then go get her favorite vegan ice cream before calling it a night. His plan is fool-proof, and he's hoping it'll not only cheer her up, but also cause her to see that he's completely head over fucking heels in love with her, and has been for about… well, since the day he got his college acceptance letter. And maybe, just maybe, she'll realize that she feels the same way. At least, that's what he's hoping for.

So they're smiling at each other across the table as she reminisces through some of her favorite moments during the run of the production. They're eating slowly, savoring each bite and savoring being together (they don't normally go out like this; they spend most of her free nights ordering greasy Chinese food and watching crappy movies). When their plates are out of the way, Rachel folds her hands neatly on top of the table.

"Noah, I have something I'd like to speak with you about."

She sounds serious. He's trying not to freak out, but in the back of his mind there's a million problems running through his head: she's moving out, she's leaving New York, she's dying, she's met some nerdy accountant with a pocket protector and decided to marry him. (He thinks that would be the worst one.)

"This is a very serious subject and I'd prefer you treat it as such. Are we understood?" He nods numbly, his stomach churning.

"Of course, Rach. What's wrong?" He's praying it's not the accountant.

"Well, as you know, my 29th birthday is fast approaching." He rolls his eyes. She just wants to talk about a birthday party or some shit. "And it has always been my plan to be a mother by the age of thirty."

His eyes shoot open at that. _She wants to be a fuckin' _mom_? Oh god, it _is_ the accountant. Fuck!_

"Yeah, sure, what the hell are you talking about?" He's panicking. He _really_ hopes she can't see that he's panicking.

"Noah," she pauses, glancing away for a moment as if she's trying to find the perfect way to word her next thought. "I…" She takes a deep breath. "I wanna have your babies."

He chokes on, well, nothing. Air. Saliva. Whatever. He fuckin' _chokes_. "The fuck, Rach?" His head is spinning too fast to even understand what she's trying to say. And then, she's removing her napkin from her lap and shaking her head.

"I'm sorry, I knew this was a stupid way to go about it. Of course, you're not interested, I can just go to—"

He interrupts her, finally comprehending her train of thought. "Holy shit, you want me to be your baby daddy?"

"Noah!" she scolds. "Don't phrase it like that! On the contrary, I want you to be the father of my child. I'd like you to…_ impregnate_ me. That is, of course, if you'd be willing to…"

Puck stares at her for a moment. He knows that with Rachel, she's got this idea in her head with contracts and big, elaborate plans, including ways for him to "get out" of his responsibility. Well, fuck that noise.

"Okay Rach, let's get one thing straight here. I'm not just gonna _fuck_ you and then let you have my kid. That's not how it works, got it?"

She leans back slightly in her chair, a bit taken aback by the forcefulness in his voice. "Noah, if you don't want to be a part of—"

He cuts her off again. "No way, Berry. We're doing this _my_ way. If you want to have my kid, you're going to be my girlfriend. _No,_ my _wife_. We're doing this right, Rach."

Her eyes are wide as a few tears begin to pool along her lower lid. "Noah… are you…" she swallows thickly. "You really want all of that? The whole thing? With _me_?"

He rolls his eyes. "Are you kidding, Rach? I've wanted that for ten _fucking_ years. Now come on, you gonna be my baby mama or not?"

Rachel laughs softly, swiping at her eyes. "I think that's the sweetest proposal any girl has ever gotten." She stands up, rounding the table and dropping herself comfortably into his lap, whispering a "yes" as his smirking lips cover hers.


End file.
